


In the Sight of What Comes Alive in the Night

by classics_above_classics



Series: Alice Dorothy and Stories Set Elsewhere [22]
Category: Elsewhere University (Webcomic)
Genre: Gen, Talking, the Fair Folk, the knights - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-18 07:55:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21840847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/classics_above_classics/pseuds/classics_above_classics
Summary: Halloween comes, and with it there are searches coming to a close.(D. isn't sure she likes what that entails.)
Series: Alice Dorothy and Stories Set Elsewhere [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1363462
Comments: 1
Kudos: 15





	In the Sight of What Comes Alive in the Night

The world is loud, all vibrant and bright, and yet D. can't help but feel sick to the stomach.

It is Halloween.

She's curled up in an uncomfortable chair in the cafeteria, watching uneasily as a group of students dance under the blinking, multicoloured lights. Her once-warm hot chocolate has gone cool in her hands, which doesn't at all help the biting chill of the room. Why, why is it so cold? Winter hasn't even come yet.

No, it's still the bright, crisp cold of autumn. D. wonders how she'll ever survive the winter here.

Connor's dancing in that crowd, though D. can't pick them out within it. They're still wearing their iron-- D. can't remember when she'd last seen them without it-- and they'd been wearing an incredibly accurate rendition of Gou from the newest Pokémon series' clothes. Idly, D. wondered at the stories of students being changed into what they wore. Would iron protect against that?

She'd asked Michael, and he'd said yes. She'd asked Johnny, and he'd said that it would protect within reason. And so she gripped a borrowed iron necklace close. Connor had iron to spare.

Unlike Connor, unlike the other partygoers, she'd been a coward. And so she had no costume.

At the very least, she'd found a fitting shirt. One with pumpkin pie and hot chocolate printed onto it. She blended right in with the others in the cafeteria.

Across the room, though still unnervingly obvious even with the crowd, is Kirjava sitting in silence.

He sits too still, Alice D. thinks. Not a hair on him has so much as shifted. Even in his layered black robes, fit for a mage, he makes no moves towards anything. He had no idle animations, no movements done unthinkingly. She can barely see him breathing.

Would he attack her again? Would he attack anyone again? She hoped he wouldn't. She was scared he would. If he did, he'd be hurt, and if he somehow avoided that, then he'd be feral and hungry and hostile, so it was a lose/lose situation there. Would anyone be able to hold him back? Would he be able to come to his senses?

Beside him, Calcifer breaks a large cookie in half, offering him the slightly larger piece. Kirjava's face lights up, and he bites into it with relish. D. looks away.

She's worried. About nothing. About everything. About Connor, maybe, and the fact they'd been talking to- to the Knights, or to Johnny, or anyone. About the new student, and the fact that he'd attacked her. About when Lyric-Weaver would come back. About Lento, even, if she had to say it. Lento and her debts and her lies.

D. thinks, idly, that she hates worrying.

But she can't do anything about it. Not when her life is like this. So she shoves down the thought and tries desperately to enjoy this party, to enjoy this room that twists her stomach with the discomfort she knows is magic. She'll wait until she knows that Connor is safe, that Connor is fine. And then she'll be free to go.

There doesn't seem to be the chance of a spell on Connor, anyway. Not like this. They're wearing less iron than usual, oddly enough, but the little they have is at least enough to ward off attention. She can't quite catch sight of them, but they're there. She's sure of it.

D. catches sight of black hair and a grey shirt and sighs in relief. They're fine. She can faintly see the shining grey of their piercings, safe and undisturbed. They're fine.

They're worrying her. Far more than they should be.

They'd asked her to meet them at the entrance a little before midnight. She doesn't know why. But there'd been relief in their eyes, relief written all over their face, and she didn't know at all why there would be. Only that it likely involved meeting at the entrance before midnight, and that it had likely involved Lyric-Weaver. Connor only really looked like that when they were thinking about Lyric-Weaver.

But she doesn't know why they'd be at the entrance with Lyric-Weaver at midnight-ish, and even if their mind automatically jumps to the best option she can't help but wonder if it's the likeliest option. 

It probably isn't.

D. checks her watch. Nine-thirty. She's already feeling tired.

She stands, turning and leaving from the room quickly. She'll put the thought of Connor behind her, and the thought of Lyric-Weaver as far as she can beyond that. It is far too other in the cafeteria.

Alice D. doesn't know the way exactly, but she tries to find the training ground that Johnny had showed her anyway. It's still safe there, with walls and a roof protecting from the cold, but it's open and the moonlight comes in clear through the huge windows. Better than the creeping, suffocating feel of the cafeteria. Though that may just be the Good Neighbours that have collected there.

It takes her a while-- a discomforting, long while, when the hallways seem to stretch out wrong in front of her despite the protection of her inside-out socks-- but she finds it before ten. Even just stepping through its threshold feels like a breath of fresh air. It's empty right now-- not quite what she wanted-- but that's alright, isn't it? It's warmer than it is outside besides that, with the space heater buzzing in the corner.

Wait. There's a blanket beside that space heater, one that's shifting slightly. Maybe she's not quite alone after all.

Whoever is under the blanket groans quietly, turning and dragging the blanket along with them. They sound familiar, D. thinks, though she can't quite place their voice. The blanket drops unceremoniously when they shift a little too much, and they whine and cover themself with it once more.

... Nope. Himself. D. is pretty sure that's Litwick under there.

"Excuse me?" D. asks, trying not to mind the way he jumps at the sudden words. "I, um... Am I allowed to stay here for a while?"

"What? Oh, uh, yes." Litwick shoves the blanket off of his head, sitting up to look at D. properly. "This room is open to anyone. In practice, the fae can't come in without being let in, but we're happy to let them in."

"I thought this was Knight ground." Johnny had said so. And considering how open this room is and how far it is from chemistry and robotics grounds, it has to have been claimed by the Knights. "I'm... not that familiar with the Knights, but... don't they fight the fae?"

"... A correction, then. I'll let them in." Litwick smiles softly, the expression surprisingly genuine for someone who she'd just woken up. "Do you want to sit down? I can share the blanket, if you like. It's cold, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is." D. thinks, in the dark of her mind, that she much prefers warmth. Spring, maybe. She'd say summer, too, but summer brings to mind Summer, and the thorns and scars around her throat that come with that. "And... I think the heater you have there should be enough."

Litwick nods, and he pulls the blanket more over himself. D. is almost amused to note that he's wearing a sweater under even that. It really must be cold for him.

"Can I ask why you're here?" Alice D. says, approaching and plopping herself down beside the space heater. "I mean... you were asleep. Aren't there more comfortable places to sleep than the floor of a training room?"

"Ah, yeah. I was practicing my fencing. Halloween's usually free time, right?" Litwick laughs, eyes flicking down towards the floor. "I _was_ going to go back to my dorm after I finished, but I was tired, and I had a blanket, and there was a heater right here..."

D. has to hold back a tiny laugh of her own. It's nice, she thinks, knowing that the upper years can be as lazy as that.

"Well, it's nice to know it's safe here, anyway. What about you?" the teacher's assistant beside her asks, his gaze going back to her. "Did you need a break from the parties outside? They can get so suffocating..."

"A little bit." More than anything, she'd needed a break from the magic. It was far too other in places where the fae congregated. "I have to get back out before midnight, though. My friend wants me to meet them by the entrance later. I'm... not sure why."

Lyric-Weaver, of course, was the reason. It was a given. But she couldn't be sure why Connor was going to meet Lyric-Weaver, so the question still stood.

"Would you like me to escort you there?" Litwick asks, sounding entirely too earnest for someone offering that so casually. "I mean... It's Halloween. The worlds are closer to each other on days like this. It's kind of dangerous, walking alone. I'm not a Knight, but I can fight like one if anyone attacks you." He gestures to the fencing foils that have been hung on the wall, most specifically to one with a lavender ribbon tied around the handle. "If you're alright with it...?"

That... is an offer D. would like to take. But she's doesn't know what Litwick would ask for in return. He's nice, yes, but...

But he could be like Lento. Or, to a lesser extent, like Johnny, though Johnny's deals are much more fair than Lento's endless debts. She knows nothing about him.

"What would I have to give if I accepted?"

"What?" And here Litwick looks genuinely confused. Alice D. ignores the relief that runs through her at his expression, waiting for the answer.

It takes a second for the T.A. to respond.

"You wouldn't owe me anything," he says softly, that confusion melting into something like pity. "I'm offering this freely. I should say that outright more, shouldn't I?"

"You shouldn't have to-"

"No, this is Elsewhere. I should." Litwick sighs. "Assumptions are dangerous here."

She knows.

"If you're sure," D. answers, "then... I'd like that. I appreciate the offer."

Litwick smiles, and D. can't help but think it looks more real than Lento's smiles had ever looked.

Time does not pass wrong, here. It does not go too slow or too fast. If anything, here it passes more properly than it would pass anywhere else. But it passes regardless, with all the regularity that it should pass with, and so midnight approaches as steadily as it should.

Alice D. doesn't entirely notice, lost in her thoughts and the warmth of the space heater she's leaning against. She doesn't have a watch-- she's never really liked watches, the quiet way they tick-- but her phone's in her pocket and if it's in a room like this one she knows the time is right. There's a part of her that's still worried for Connor, of course-- if they get caught up in a dance with the fae who knows when they'll get out-- but she doesn't yet want to go and check. The gymnasium is silent.

"It's eleven-thirty," Litwick says quietly, after some time without words. Unlike D., he's actually wearing a watch. "Do you need to get back now? The entrance is a little far."

"Oh, yeah. Th- I appreciate it." D. stands, already mourning the loss of silence. Litwick offers an encouraging smile as he follows. She doesn't question him when he heads for the hanging swords, taking the one with the ribbon and looping it into his belt. "... Who usually gives fencing lessons here? Do we have to pay for them?"

Litwick takes a hold of her hand as he leads her out. The contact's a comfortable one. "Well, for this group, it's Snowmelt. She's fairly hard to find, though. I can ask her the next time we have a practice session if she'd be willing to help you out. She probably would, considering how few people want to train with... ah, never mind. That's her story to tell."

The hallways seem a little brighter now, despite how the sky has darkened. Or, rather, the shadows seem to stretch out less. D. muses that it might be the iron of that sword, or the fact that there's a person by her side.

It's a welcoming thought.

She thinks, maybe, that she'd like to learn how to fence. She'd like to learn the weight of a sword in her hands. Not to hunt fae, of course, and certainly not to hunt anyone, but...

But she'd feel safer knowing.

The walk to the entrance is peaceful, uninterrupted by any appearing fae or probably-drunk students. Litwick doesn't talk during it, humming an off-key tune and only pausing to check if a hall is going the right way. D. only recognizes the hallways once they're almost right in front of the entrance doors.

"We're here!" the T.A. says cheerfully, almost cutely excited to have arrived. D. mirrors his smile hesitantly as he continues. "It's pretty late, so I should probably be getting to my dorm. Good luck with whatever this is, Mx. Alice!"

"Oh, um... I appreciate it." D. waves him goodbye when he heads back down the hall, his sword still there by his side. "Good evening, Litwick."

She checks her phone. Eleven-forty-nine. Just a little bit longer, then, before Connor should be here.

D. shoves down her mounting worries and settles in to wait.

⋈

At eleven fifty-nine, Connor bursts into the hall, their face torn with worry.

"D.!" They break out into a relieved smile, plopping down beside D. to wait for midnight, presumably. "Oh, thank fuck, I thought you were dead or something. You disappeared! Why didn't you tell me you were going anywhere? I've been looking for you since ten o'clock!"

D. very carefully refrains from telling them that she left the party at nine-thirty. "It's nice to know you were looking," she says instead. "What are we here for?"

"You'll see," Connor replies vaguely. "Take off your iron. We don't need to have iron right now."

No iron? Now D. is really concerned. Still, she obliges, more quickly than she thinks anyone but a first-year would. She sets the necklace on the ground and watches Connor follow suit with their piercings, all shimmering in the faint moonlight.

"Now?"

"Now..." Connor frowns. "They should be here by know. They should--"

And then the world seems to twist around them.

D. only recognizes far too late that she can't bring herself to breathe. The whole field is warm, and more than that it's blooming, plants that would never grow in autumn springing to life in the grass of the grounds.

But that is nothing. Because before her eyes, slumped in Lyric-Weaver's arms and with a boy watching her curiously...

Before her eyes, she sees Lento.


End file.
